


Open Arms by tqpannie

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Strong sexual content, stong language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Hermione's birthday and she's going to get what she wants. <b>Ron</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Arms by tqpannie

  
[Open Arms](viewstory.php?sid=665) by [tqpannie](viewuser.php?uid=1)  


  
Summary: It's Hermione's birthday and she's going to get what she wants. **Ron**  
Categories: The Broomshed > Erotic Couplings Characters:  Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley  
Genres:  Erotica, Romance  
Time Period:  None  
Warnings:  Strong Sexual Content, Strong Language  
Challenges: None  
Series: None  
Chapters:  1 Completed: Yes   
Word count: 2801 Read: 1250  
Published: 10/23/2005 Updated: 10/23/2005 

One Shot by tqpannie

  
_-Hermione,_  
The chicken has fled the coop.  
-Ginny

Ginny’s owl had arrived only moments ago and Hermione knew she only had minute before Ron would be knocking at her door. She used her wand to light the final candle in the living room and looked at herself in the mirror standing in the corner. She nervously tugged at the Cannons t-shirt she was wearing—last year’s birthday gift from Ron—and ran a shaking hand through her hair. Her birthday had come around again and this year she was going to get what she wanted from Ron. This year she was going to get what she wanted most—a stubborn red head admitting he loved her.

The wheels of her plan had been set in motion a month ago. She had spent the better part of an afternoon at the Burrow exchanging innuendo and flirting with Ron. He was teasing her—brushing up against her—pushing a stray curl behind her ear. She had been a quivering mass of arousal by the time supper was over and she had pulled Ginny outside to take a walk. They had walked slightly away from the house and Ginny had asked what had her knickers in a twist. Hermione had spilled all her feelings out—her desires—her love for one Ronald Weasley in the matter of minutes.

“So what do you want to do?” Ginny said, studying her intently.

“I want to stop dancing,” she had answered. “I want him—I just want him.”

They had sat down and carefully planned out a battle strategy. Tonight would be the fruition of six years of longing—desire—and love. She glanced around at the room. The candlelight flickered on the walls, casting shadows, and she couldn’t help but imagine how it would glint off of the red hair she’d waited so long to run her fingers through.

She picked up her glass of wine with a shaking hand as she heard the knock on the door. She downed half the glass before talking a deep breath and moving slowly across the room. She stood on her tiptoes and looked out the peephole. He was standing outside her door, nervously running his hand through his hair, and she unlocked the door.

“Ron, it’s late,” she said, pulling the door open. “What do you want?”

He pushed his way past her and inside her flat. He took off his robes and squared his shoulders before speaking.

“I didn’t forget this year. I fell asleep after training and please don’t hex me this time.”

He said this all very quickly, looking down at his feet, and she couldn’t help but grin.

“So where’s my present?”

“Fuck! I forgot it—I swear I have a present, Hermione.”

He finally looked up at her and she was pleased by his reaction. He stopped mid-sentence and simply stared. She met his gaze evenly and she saw him take a deep shuddering breath.

“What are you wearing?”

She shivered at the sound of his voice—it was low and hoarse. She saw him swallow convulsively several times and then he cleared his throat.

“You don’t recognize what you got me last year? I’m really disappointed by the lack of a present—at least Viktor sent me something.”

Hermione felt bad; she didn’t like to lie, but she justified it by knowing Viktor had sent her a card. She said it to get under his skin; even after all these years, Viktor could make him jealous.

“What did old Vicky get you?”

She took a step forward, invading his personal space, and she caught a whiff of his aftershave. He smelled incredible—musky with a hint of cinnamon and a scent that was Ron’s and Ron’s alone. It drove her crazy… every time she got close to him.

“That’s not important,” she said softly. “Why did you forget my present?”

“I was hurrying to get here before your birthday ended…bloody hell, Hermione, I’ll make it up to you!”

He looked so earnest—so hopeful—and she decided to move things forward a bit.

“How will you make it up to me?”

She moved closer to him and laid her hand on his chest. She could feel his heart racing under her palm and she looked up at him. He was beautiful—his eyes had darkened to a cobalt blue and he licked his lips nervously.

“What do you want?”

She cocked her head to the left then the right, appearing to be weighing her options. She trailed her fingertips in little circles on his chest and the muscles there flexed. She took a moment to enjoy the power she had over him before speaking. “What do I want?” she asked softly, trailing her arm across his shoulders before circling behind him. “I want you.”

She pressed against him and lay her hands on his shoulders. “I want you… Do you know what you do to me…teasing me?” She stood on her toes and pressed a brief kiss to the nape of his neck. She could feel the tightly coiled tension in his shoulders and she squeezed them gently.

“Hermione…”

“Shhh… let me finish. I hear your voice at night—it haunts my dreams. Do you know what you do in my dreams? Do you want to know?”

“Yes…”

Desire was rolling off him in waves and it was consuming her. She struggled to clear her head and almost missed his words.

“It changes all the time but the most vivid one is where you take me hard against the wall—thrusting into me, kissing me, and you whisper dirty things in my ear. We’re both blinded by need, by heat… you’re so hard inside me and I can’t do anything but moan out your name. Then we come together—and it’s as if I can’t tell where you begin and I end.”

“Fuck, Hermione!”

She trailed her hands around him as she circled back to stand in front of him. She looked up into his eyes and found an almost feral need in them. She stood on her toe and pressed her lips to his, running her tongue across his lips, and when he parted them she deepened the kiss. It was better than she ever imagined… better than any fantasy she’d ever had about him. They explored each other’s mouths, tongues brushing, and he nibbled her bottom lip. They continued until the need for air forced them to part. She looked up at him again and their eyes locked.

Her voice trembled in fear and in need when she spoke again. “Ron, are you ready to stop dancing? Do you love me? Do you want me?” Her heart was racing, and she took his hand in hers. “Do you love me? I need to know—I love you and I want you. I’m coming to you with open arms.”

She laid all her cards on the table and bit her lip as she awaited his response. She felt his hand tremble and he lifted his other hand to free her bottom lip from between her teeth. He traced her lips with his thumb and took a deep shuddering breath. He opened his mouth several times to speak and then cupped her cheek.

“I love you so much it feels like I can’t breathe,” he whispered. “I love the way you smile, the way you nag me to take care of myself…I could go on forever telling you all the little things that make me love you but there isn’t enough time or words.”

She exhaled sharply as he took her hand and pressed it to the erection tenting his trousers. She could feel him throbbing against her hand and he moved her hand up and down the front of trousers. He was hard…so hard… and she couldn’t suppress the moan that came from deep in her throat.

“Does it feel like I want you? Every time I’m close to you, it’s all I can do to keep from making love to you. Every night your face fills my dreams. Some nights I imagine you’re under me and I’m inside you. It feels so good… and I’m so hard… and then I come…your name spills from my lips over and over.”

Something snapped in her with his words. The need to touch him—to feel the hardness in the palm of her hand—to hear him moan her name---was over powering. Her knees weakened and buckled and she sank to her knees in front of him. Her fingers worked the button on his trousers and she heard him growl when she took the zipper between her teeth and slowly lowered it.

“Take off your shirt, Ron.”

She watched as he wrenched the shirt down the middle sending buttons flying everywhere. She worked his trousers and boxers past his hips. She lifted his legs one at a time, feeling them tremble, and then tossed his trousers and boxers across the room.

He moaned loudly when she traced the underside of his cock with her fingertip. She wanted to taste him. The need was overpowering, and she slid her mouth over the tip of his erection, swirling her tongue around the head before taking him fully in her mouth.

“Fuck, that’s brilliant!”

She looked up to see him watching her with hooded eyes, lust and love warring in their stormy depths, and she moaned against him. She renewed her efforts, taking him as far as she could before sliding back up his shaft. Her hands traced circles up and down the back of his thighs and she felt a delicious tension in her center. His hands fisted in her hair and he thrust his hips in time with the movements of her mouth against him.

“So good…Hermione…so good… don’t stop…”

His jumbled words reached her ears and she pressed her thighs together, trying to soothe the ache that was slowly building in her. She slid her hand upward and paused to swirl her tongue around his tip.

He pulled her head back and forced her to look up at him. “You’ve got to stop,” he said hoarsely. “I’m going to come… I want to be inside you when I come… I want us to come together.”

She released him and slid her hands to the bottom of her t-shirt. She stood and pulled the garment over her head. His eyes raked up and down her form and his eyes widened as he trailed her bare form.

“You weren’t wearing any knickers?” he asked, and snaked his arm around her waist to pull her to him. “This whole time?”

His hands slid up her back and around to her front. He cupped her breasts and bent to place a kiss on her lips. His tongue danced against hers, drawing her arousal higher, and she moaned as his thumb brushed her nipples. His kiss was drugging, making her weak in the knees, and she finally slid her hands through his hair. It was even softer and silkier than she imagined.

“Better than I imagined,” she breathed as he trailed kisses across her jaw, “better than I ever imagined.”

His lips were trailing fire down her neck and he took her nipple into his mouth. His lips tugged and pulled her nipple into a hardened point before giving her neglected breast the same attention. She could feel him hard against her stomach and the need to feel him inside her was driving her mad.

He surprised her by lifting her up and carrying her over to the rocking chair. He bent forward, claiming her lips again. His hands were dancing up and down her thighs—coming close but never reaching where she needed him most.

“Please, Ron---please…”

“What is it? What do you want?”

He was going to make her say it—he was challenging her to say it—and she wouldn’t back down. She pushed his head and he trailed his tongue over the swell of her stomach. He planted little kisses there and grazed her with his teeth.

“Put your mouth on me!”

She was rewarded almost immediately. His hands drew her legs over his shoulders and her head fell back. The motion of her shifting body caused the chair to rock slowly and she couldn’t keep the whimper in when he slid his tongue through her folds. She let out a keening wail as he darted his tongue across her clit, circling it, and the rocking motion of the chair worked in counter part to his mouth.

“More… Ron… more…”

She slid her hands into his hair, holding him to her, and something caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She turned her head and moaned his name when she saw them in the mirror.

“Oh…” she breathed. “Oh…the mirror…Ron, my god, the mirror.”

He lifted his head and looked. He eyes flew to hers and she heard him growl again.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful! Hermione! I can’t wait!”

She gasped as when he pushed her legs from his shoulders and pulled her to the floor. She was flush on top of him and he scooted about so she could see herself in the mirror.

“I’m going to make you scream my name…”

He turned his head and looked in the mirror. She could feel his gaze, hot and intense despite being filtered by the mirror, and with a soft moan she lowered herself on him. She paused when he was fully inside her and then began moving. She used her knees to support her and she watched them. He was moving his hips up to meet hers and his hands slid to her breasts, cupping them. He flicked his thumbs over her nipples and she let her head fall back, moaning.

“Look as us,” he growled. “We fit perfectly…”

She turned her head and cried out his name when she saw how they looked together. The sight caused her to increase her pace and their eyes locked in the mirror.

The only sound in the room was moaning and the sound of skin slapping together. His hands were on her hips, pushing her up and down in counter point to his upward thrusts. She watched as he slid a hand down her body to dance across her clit.

“You’re so tight… wet…so close…”

“Ron… so good… fuck me harder!”

The words fell from her lips and his hips slammed upwards into hers. He pressed hard against her clit, rubbing it frantically, and she ground her hips against his.

“Ron!” She screamed out his name as white heat unfurled in her stomach, shuddering as her release spilled over her, and she dimly heard his own shout of release. She turned her head to watch the pleasure over take him. His jaw was clenched—his eyes wide and unfocused—and then he was spilling into her. He moaned her name over and over. She shuddered a last time and collapsed against him.

“I love you,” he whispered, planting small kisses atop her head. “I love you.”

She lifted herself off him and snuggled up to his side. “I love you too.”

He reached behind him and pulled the afghan off the arm of the couch. He covered them with it, pulling her more tightly against him before kissing her forehead.

“I did get you a real birthday present, you know.”

“Will you tell me what it is? What did you get me?”

He suddenly looked nervous again and she lifted her hand to his cheek. “It’s okay if it’s another Cannons shirt.”

“It’s a locket,” he whispered, entwining his hand with hers, “a heart-shaped locket with a picture of you and me in it.”

“Ron…”

She didn’t know what to say. Her heart was racing and he smiled down at her.

“I was coming here to give it to you… to tell you I was giving you my heart for your birthday… and to see if you would give me yours.”

She felt the tears flowing down her cheeks and he used his thumb to brush them away.

“You’ve always had my heart. Since you saved me from that troll.”

Their eyes met—each overwhelmed by the look they found.

He lifted her hand to his lips to place a kiss there.

He gave her a lopsided grin and whispered, “You had me at hello.”

Fini.

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.thequidditchpitch.org/viewstory.php?sid=665>  



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